“Your earrings,” I said, clearing my throat because despite my attempts at just wanting to kiss her, I was rock-hard. “Why so many?”
“I like how the light reflects off them.”
What an odd answer.
But she was odd, in so many ways. She was a beautiful woman who thought I was a chauffeur, who wanted to negotiate a contract to marry Anthony, and was incredible in bed. I wasn’t one to get caught up in emotions or feelings, but I needed to tread carefully. My job was to help her learn how to adult and to experience things, so when time was up, we’d go back to what we were before—just a memory.
But when do you tell her the truth?
That was the question I didn’t have an answer to.
Chapter Twenty
Gilly spunaround on the pedestal-like thing and arched a brow at Grace and me. “Well?”
“You look good in anything you wear, Gil, but how do you feel in this dress?” Grace tapped her finger against her lip, the sun hitting her wedding ring just right and reflecting into my eyes. The unexpected weight grew in my chest at seeing my baby sister try on wedding dresses. It wasn’t a painful feeling, but definitely uncomfortable.
“Fritz, you have more opinions than any man ever deserves. Thoughts?” my sister asked, and the slight lilt to her voice forced me to let go of any weird feelings. She needed us present, for her, and if I weren’t mistaken, she was nervous.
“I echo what Grace said, but…” I paused, studying the very traditional white dress. “If I may add some thoughts?”
“Stop being weird, yes. I want your thoughts!” She huffed, and the tips of her cheeks pinked. A part of me wondered if the fact our mom wasn’t here bothered her. She said she wasfinewith it andunderstood,but this was a milestone for a woman—so I had read. My and Grace’s duty was to make it fantastic.
“What did you wear to prom junior year?” I asked, hoping to guide Gilly in the right direction.
“Uh, a fire-engine-red dress with a lot of sparkle and poof.”
“And senior year?”
She narrowed her eyes at studied me for a beat before her lips quirked up. “A hot-pink froufrou dress.”
“So why in God’s name are you trying on dresses that are so boring? That’s not you.”
Grace smacked my arm and shook her head. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I couldn’t pinpoint my issue with the last ten you’ve tried on. We need va-va-voom. We need to seeyouup there.”
“Fuck.” She pointed over our shoulder, and I swore my sister salivated. “That one. Grace, you know my size. Bring me that baby.”
I craned my neck and watched Grace walk toward the most obnoxious, beautiful, off-white sparkly dress. It had feathers and fluff and beads and tiny shiny things that reminded me of Nora’s earrings.
Nora.She’d be having a ball if she was here. I smiled briefly, before rubbing the back of my neck and wincing. We might connect in the bedroom, but she was after marriage. Not a great idea to think about herhere.
“This thing weighs way too much.” Grace huffed and carried it toward the dressing room door. Gilly yanked both Grace and the dress inside the room, and all I heard were laughs,oh shits,and the click of the door opening.
Grace met my eyes witha look.
My pulse sped up as that same weighted feeling came back and the wind knocked out of my lungs when Gilly stood there inthedress.
Her eyes watered and her hands trembled when she raised her arms up and said, “Well?”
“Christopher is going to melt onto the floor. This isperfect.” I stood and walked toward her, my own eyes prickling a bit at how grateful I was to be here with her. “Gil, yes.” I grinned down at her, and she wiped under her eyes.
“I-It feels weird to cry.”
“Who gives a shit?” I got my phone out and took some photos of her. I’d send them to our mom later, but I wasn’t going to darken this moment with memories of her. “This isyou.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Did you find your dress? Oh!” A red-haired woman looked over at us from the counter and picked up a large brass bell. She held it over her head and slammed it back and forth, the clinging sound just making the moment more funny.
